


Time's Up

by rosymamacita



Series: The Apocalypse Part 2 [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Confessions, F/M, First Kiss, Polis, Reunion, Season/Series 04 Spoilers, grounder costumes, post 4.0
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 07:10:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10736694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosymamacita/pseuds/rosymamacita
Summary: Bellamy makes it to Polis and meets up with Clarke. She's dressed in her grounder outfit and it brings up too many old feelings. Something's got to break this tension, and he has an idea. Why not, right?





	Time's Up

**Author's Note:**

> i tried to finish this last night but was too tired. and i want to get it out today before the actual bellarke reunion, so here i am posting it.

When Bellamy and Octavia got to Polis, Octavia went to the battle tent, but they sent him directly to the Sky Crew headquarters. It looked like they were once part of meeting place, maybe a bar. He didn’t care. He’d done his duty and brought his sister here. He was tired of fighting, but what else was left?

“She’s waiting for you,” the guard said, and thumbed him towards a back room. He didn’t have to ask who was waiting for him. He sighed heavily. He’d tried to be like Jasper and just let it all go, but he couldn’t. He cared too much and even if he couldn’t save anyone who didn’t want to be saved, he still wanted to. So he was just. Tired.

Bellamy passed through the tattered curtain, and there she was. He didn’t like the way his heart beat sped up at the sight of her. That was a lie. He did like it. He was all of a sudden not tired. Her hair was woven into braids on top and left to wave loosely down the sides, flowing down her back. So pretty. But she was wearing that awful grounder coat that weighed her down. 

It reminded him of how she was when she came back to them. Of how she was when she was away from them. How she’d chosen to leave them and become a grounder and be with Lexa. And love someone else. And be with someone else.

Just like he couldn’t save someone who didn’t want to be saved, he couldn’t make someone love him who didn’t love him.

“Nice outfit, Clarke. You going back to the grounders now that we’re allies?”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. You know as well as I do that there’s not going to be any grounders or sky people after this. It’s all gone. It’s just people.”

His gun weighed heavily on his shoulder. “Fine. But how about you tell them that. They still think this is some sort of war, and not the end of the world.” He was so tired. Everything was a fight.

“They don’t really listen, do they? The way they settle things here is through battle. And if we don’t battle, if we don’t take part in their conclave, then it will be war. We don’t have time for war.”

“We don’t have time for anything.”

“I know. So that’s why I’m wearing the outfit. It’s for the ceremony. To show that we’re all one people. You need to wear one too.”

“I do? Why me? The guards out there aren’t wearing grounder outfits.”

“What do you mean, why you? Because you’re…you.”

He laughed and it did not reach his heart. “Who am I, Clarke? Really.”

She gaped at him for a while as if she were confused by his antagonism. Maybe she should be. He didn’t know why he was mad at her, other than how she hadn’t been there with him in Arkadia, even though it was his choice to go back. And how he still remembered his night with Bree and how he’d wished it was her and the dry thought made him despair. And how the sight of her in that coat made him want to rip it off of her and throw it away, and hold her close and kiss the scars on her chest. 

“Bellamy,” Clarke said, holding the outfit out to him. “We all have to dress the part. It’s for the ceremony. They won’t accept us if we don’t…”

“Don’t what? Play their game?” His eyes raked up and down her grounder outfit. “You always love to play their game, don’t you Clarke?”

Clarke gasped. “I’m just doing what I have to… for our people…” her protestations died on her lips.

“Sure, Clarke. For our people. I guess that means I have to dress like them too? Maybe I’ll find myself a grounder girl to fuck to get in with them. That’s how it goes, right?” He thought about how she went with Niylah the night before they left with the hydrazine. Ah. There was another reason he was angry at her. If he were feeling charitable, he wouldn’t blame her for that one. She was free to have sex with anyone she wanted. She didn’t owe him anything. They weren’t together.

Clarke was frozen. Staring at him. “What’s wrong Bellamy? Why are you…” the words wouldn’t come.

“Fucking is better than war, right Clarke? This is the game? Fine.” He stripped his jacket off and reached behind his head to pull off his tshirt. That dropped to the floor too. Clarke’s mouth fell open. He kicked off his boots while she watched, her eyes tracking up and down his body. He unbuckled his pants and stepped out of them. 

Left only in his briefs he walked up to her. Her face was flushed and her eyes dark. And they never left his body. He knew what lust looked like. She wanted him. It broke his heart, because he knew it was just one of those end of the world things. He was just someone to bang for comfort, to prove that they were still living until all the lights went out. 

But then he thought of Bree again, and how he’d wished she was Clarke. And here was Clarke. And she wanted him. His breath sped up. Why the fuck not?

He stepped even closer until they were almost touching. He couldn’t make that final step towards her, even if he wanted her so bad he was dizzy with it. Because it wasn’t real. It was just fucking. “Like what you see?” he asked and his words came out husky. Encouraging. 

He saw her eyes close, saw her shake her head. “No,” she said, and his heart dropped. She didn’t even want to fuck him. “I love him.”

The words sent a jolt through him. “What?”

She put a gentle hand on his chest, eyes still closed, then she stroked out over his muscle, touching him so gently, and pressed a kiss over his heart. He shivered. She looked up at him. “I love you, Bellamy.”

Without meaning to, his hands came up to grip her arms. “What?”

She closed her eyes again and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just thought that if I die, I wanted you to know that I love you. I should have told you before. But I didn’t because I was afraid of what it would mean. That if I told you, then you’d die. They always die. But I couldn’t risk that happening with you. So I didn’t. But then I took the nightblood and I imagined dying in that radiation chamber realizing I would never have told you how I feel and I couldn’t. I can’t. I had to say it. I’m sorry.” She kept talking as if she couldn’t stop. He could barely get a thought together.

“Don’t…” he said.

“I’m sorry, I won’t bother you with it again. You can ignore it, I swear.” She laughed bitterly. “It’s only six days. We can ignore it.”

“No,” he choked out. “I mean, don’t say that if it’s just because the world is ending. Don’t hold onto me because there’s nothing left.” His words faded. “Don’t make me just something to hold onto because there’s no one better around.” It wasn’t more than a whisper.

Her face went from sad to angry in a flash. “No one better around? There is no one better than you, Bellamy, period.”

He huffed a laugh. “How about Niylah?”

He hadn’t meant to say that. 

She blinked. “Niylah? I thought you liked Niylah.”

“It’s not about me liking her. You’re the one that liked her best.”

Red rose to her cheeks. “Liked her best…you turned me down.”

“I never.”

“I put my face on your hand. I wanted you to touch me and you told me to get some rest and took off like I had lit you on fire. I was so sad, Bellamy. So scared and I just wanted to be held.”

“So you got what you needed. Why aren’t you going to Niylah?”

“No I didn’t, Bellamy. I needed to be held by you?”

“Sure I know. That’s what friends do.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and glared. “Friends,” she said, her voice flat. She stuck out her chin in that way that she used to when they always fought, back when he thought she was the Ark princess and he hated her as often as she made him smile.

She clasped her hands behind his neck and pulled him down in the fiercest kiss he’d ever felt. A fight. A war. The spikes of her grounder coat pressed into him and the leather creaked coldly against his chest. She bit his lip, and plunged her tongue into his mouth, while he let her.

And when she let him go, she sobbed. “I didn’t want you to hold me like a friend, Bellamy. I’m in love with you. You idiot!”

He took a step back like she’d socked him, shook his head. There wasn’t enough air in the room suddenly. 

“Fuck!”

Clarke covered her face with her hands and turned the other way. “Just get dressed Bellamy. They’re going to be in soon to get us for the conclave. You need to be in the grounder costume because you’re a leader and the Trikru and the Azgeda respect you. We don’t have time for my little confession and subsequent breakdown.”

“Fuck, no,” he said. He took the three steps until he was on her, and spun her around. “…Little confession…no.” She stared up at him and he took her face in his hands, cradling her jaw, he touched his lips to hers, gently, softly. The way it should be between them. He kissed her, giving her the sweetness she deserved. She gasped and he licked into her mouth and she was suddenly pressed up against him again, her arms wrapped around him, stroking up and down his back. He knotted one hand in her silky hair, and ran the other down the lines of her neck to settle over her heart, where a scar sat, where her breast swelled, and the heat between them blossomed into a bonfire. Passionate. Intense. The way it should be.

He shoved the coat off of her shoulders but it caught. The buckles too tight and confining. “Fuck,” he said again, pulling away from her lips to kiss the scar above her heart. Then the one on the other side. He squeezed her soft breast, thumbing her nipple. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and her head fell back, exposing her throat. The sound of her moan shot right through him.

“Fuck no, Clarke. Not like this. They’re going to be here any minute.”

“Please, Bellamy…” Clarke whispered and he almost couldn’t stop himself.

“Not like this, Clarke.” His heart stuttered. “I love you, Clarke. I’m so in love with you, please not like this. I want to have time.”

She laughed then. He looked at her. Her smile was brilliant, but two bright tears rolled down her cheeks. “Time? Time’s up.” She dropped her head to his chest and he felt the tears, hot on his skin. “I did it again. I waited to say it. And it’s too late. This time we’re all going to die.”

“Fuck that,” he said and she looked up, her eyes brighter than he’d ever seen them. He put a finger under her chin and raised her face to kiss her because he could. “We’re not going to die. Not now. Not after… not now I get to show you how much I love you. I want this, Clarke. I want to be with you. I want to live.”

“I want to be with you, too. I want to live. I want to fight.”

He laughed. He couldn’t help himself. The world was ending and Clarke loved him. “It’s a good thing I’m really good at fighting.”

“Today you’re going to be a leader, not a fighter, okay? You’re going to stand with me and we’re going to save everyone we can. Without a war.”

He inhaled. “Yes. We’re going to win. We’re going to go out there and face them down together. But I should probably get dressed first.”

She looked down at his body. “No, I like you like this. I want to see you like this more. In less.” She licked her lips.

“Jesus Clarke!”

“I told you I didn’t want you to hold me like a friend, Bellamy.” He was getting ready to give her her wish when a pounding set up on the door. 

“Five minutes!” they yelled.

“Dammit.” He bent and scooped up the grounder outfit that had fallen to the floor and started dressing. Clarke came to help him dress, but she did more touching and stroking and perhaps stole some kisses until she was getting in the way more than helping. He pushed her off. “Stop. Stand there.” He glared at her and she bit her lip and smiled at him. But when the guard came back, he was dressed, although it was a narrow thing, and they were both breathing hard.

He grabbed her before she went out the door and kissed her once more, putting all of his love into it. “This is not the end, Clarke. We’re fighting for this.”

“Damn right we are,” she grinned, and then she linked her hand with his and they walked to the meeting. And that was how they faced down the conclave, the same way they faced every obstacle. Together.


End file.
